Súraumo watches the panic of the beings below with malicious glee. Greedy, self-important wretches these mortals were. It is time they realise their place in the order of things and feel a little terror in their lives.
Tilting his wings Súraumo angles down and makes a long pass over the island. His roar makes the earth below him tremble as he opens his maw and breathes fire as he goes, leaving a trail of fire and destruction in his wake. The balrog smiles contentedly. No one on this little island has even attempted a defense. He can be done with this assignment -- satisfy the geas -- easily. The drizzle of rain is a small annoyance. The geas flickers in excitement as the balrog spots a figure kneeling near the docks. The king, kneeling! The balrog roars in glee, savoring the image.
Seeing fire raining from the dragon, Aztryd jumps back. She runs across the room, and grabs Elwing's arm, shaking it urgently. "Lady Elwing, Lady Elwing, wake up! Maker protect us, there is a dragon out there burning up the city! Wake up, we need to go, and quickly! Is there a basement to this tower? Where are the shelters? Quickly! Wake up! Lady Elwing!"
Nole reaches his king, out of breath, but the wake of fire all around gave him the strength to help his king. Speechless, he could only comfort him by being here with him whatever may happen.
Súraumo roars again with the sheer joy of the destruction. He feels young again, powerful. He turns to take another sweep across the land as the residents scatter in panic, but again his eye is caught by that tower, the tower and its gold. "You want destruction, balrog? Let us start with this tower!" His voice is a rasping rumble as he turns and charges the tower, flame shooting from his gaping maw. With an ear-shattering roar he crashes into the tower, feeling the stone give beneath the powerful impact, crumbling before him. His wings beat mightily as he flies on, hearing the tower crumble and fall behind him. He circles around over the ocean and prepares for another pass over the island, maw open, breathing fire.
The balrog braces himself for the impact. Let the dragon have his fun! Indeed, the balrog throws a few fireballs himself, in the sheer joy of destruction, watching trees and buildings catch fire, as the little elves scatter in panic. As the tower crack and falls into burning rubble, the Balrog collects his attention again. "Dragon, down to the dock! I want that puny king." He absentmindedly tosses a few more fireballs, but his mind is following his prey.
Tilting his wings Súraumo angles down and makes a long pass over the island. His roar makes the earth below him tremble as he opens his maw and breathes fire as he goes, leaving a trail of fire and destruction in his wake. The balrog smiles contentedly. No one on this little island has even attempted a defense. He can be done with this assignment -- satisfy the geas -- easily. The drizzle of rain is a small annoyance. The geas flickers in excitement as the balrog spots a figure kneeling near the docks. The king, kneeling! The balrog roars in glee, savoring the image.
Seeing fire raining from the dragon, Aztryd jumps back. She runs across the room, and grabs Elwing's arm, shaking it urgently. "Lady Elwing, Lady Elwing, wake up! Maker protect us, there is a dragon out there burning up the city! Wake up, we need to go, and quickly! Is there a basement to this tower? Where are the shelters? Quickly! Wake up! Lady Elwing!"
Nole reaches his king, out of breath, but the wake of fire all around gave him the strength to help his king. Speechless, he could only comfort him by being here with him whatever may happen.
Súraumo roars again with the sheer joy of the destruction. He feels young again, powerful. He turns to take another sweep across the land as the residents scatter in panic, but again his eye is caught by that tower, the tower and its gold. "You want destruction, balrog? Let us start with this tower!" His voice is a rasping rumble as he turns and charges the tower, flame shooting from his gaping maw. With an ear-shattering roar he crashes into the tower, feeling the stone give beneath the powerful impact, crumbling before him. His wings beat mightily as he flies on, hearing the tower crumble and fall behind him. He circles around over the ocean and prepares for another pass over the island, maw open, breathing fire.
The balrog braces himself for the impact. Let the dragon have his fun! Indeed, the balrog throws a few fireballs himself, in the sheer joy of destruction, watching trees and buildings catch fire, as the little elves scatter in panic. As the tower crack and falls into burning rubble, the Balrog collects his attention again. "Dragon, down to the dock! I want that puny king." He absentmindedly tosses a few more fireballs, but his mind is following his prey.
> Next